Duck Farms
by Dinkleburgh
Summary: She was just your average kid, at the age of nine. Slightly more snappy than usual, but in our circumstances that was only to be expected. [Star centric, yet Rae centric. Confusing, much?] [ON HOLD].


**Alright, here's the first chapter of this little fiction o' mine. I know that it's terrible of me to release it before I've actually finished it... but bare with me, okay? I got a little bit excited (pfft!) and I'm not a lost cause, I have the outlines written on paper as I have a horrible memory.**

**Anyway, I understand that things may seem a bit choppy during the first few chapters, perhaps even later in the story. When I first planned this, it was meant to be in third person, but I wanted to experience first, so here we are.**

**And if anyone has a sibling that's around eight to ten years old, PLEASE help me. I haven't spoken to anyone in that age bracket for a period of time longer than two minutes for ages, and the way they talk has yet to be stuck into my head. Eventually I'll get out of this troubled phase, but for now, the Titans are still kids...**

**Hm. Sorry about the first bit, but it's almost crucial to the story - it's told through an adult Kori, looking back on the experiences.**

**  
Yes, I like the line feature a _leetle_ bit too much. Yes, the rating will get higher as time goes on. No, I do not own Teen Titans.  
**

* * *

I'm here to tell you a story. 

Not an ordinary story, mind. If pumpkin coaches and Prince Charmings even took one step into the tale that I am about to share to you, they would have been on the ground within seconds, cowering in defeat. Why? Because of our Cinderella – our Raven.

No matter what people say, she wasn't always a shy child. She wasn't demonic, though many of our previous classmates claimed her to be. She was just your average kid, at the age of nine; slightly more snappy than usual, but in our circumstances that was only to be expected.

Maybe I appear to be droning, and if so, I do apologise. But I need to introduce the focus-point of this tale – these memories – to you.

Raven Roth. I don't think any of our friends has never, at some point in time, lost patience with her. Though often silent and, in later years, sarcastic, that in itself can be annoying when you are attempting to befriend a person. However, she was and still is a very loyal friend.

That's it. From this moment onwards you are going to be diving head-first into past experiences, thoughts that no one but I has ever had access to. I have had to relocate at least a dozen diaries to piece together this information, maybe more. Some I have not been able to find, and many pages have been ripped out of my recordings in fits of anger or sadness. The story is not complete, and I can only hope that you will forgive me for my mistakes.

**

* * *

**"Hurry up, sister! Why are you not excited about the joys of school? There will be new friends to make, and-"

"Kori, dear, calm down-"

"Mother, honestly. Kori never calms down, it's hopeless to even try-"

"Sister, you lie!"

Komi scowled, flicking her black hair behind her shoulder. She was my elder sister by ten months, but against what one might suspect, we shared no common interests. The way we dressed was different, the way we talked was different; we were polar opposites. I always felt guilty about the way my sister turned out; snarky and mean to everyone who refused to kiss her feet and proclaim her Queen of the Universe. I thought it was my fault, really, but the few times I tried to apologise for my mistake in her raising ended up in a yelling match.

"I think that will be enough for this morning, you two," my mother said regally, her nose in the air. "Silence is all I want to hear until we reach the school. Due to Komi's favourite show being on, we are already running late – but I spoke to the principal before-hand, so stop looking so sour Komi, and it's perfectly alright for us to be a tad late, as you are new and there is no set time for you to arrive. You will not receive a detention for being late, either… Kori, don't touch that!"

I blushed, but dutifully put the kitten back to the ground. It had a sickly look to it. I was almost certain that, if it were human, its face would be green… I couldn't help but think that it was ill, but whether it was from an injury or a fur ball, I didn't have a clue.

"Mother, please forgive me for speaking, but I do not mind if I am grounded-" I murmured, to which my mother arched an eyebrow and nodded, indicating that I could continue. "Can… can I keep him?"

Komi was seething. "If she gets to keep that thing, I demand a new piece of jewellery, mother!"

I coughed, drawing attention to myself. "If I do not at least take him to an expert, mother, he will die!" I didn't know that for sure, perhaps, but it was a fairly accurate guess. The cat looked as if it had undergone a major change in its lifestyle – maybe its previous owners had kicked it out of their house, or broken a bone of his? I observed the cat as my mother pondered; it was walking around me, and I gasped as I recognised a limp. "Mother, it is severely injured! It is limping, look!"

She observed it, but not after letting Komi know that she would consider the jewellery, and telling her to walk the rest of the street to the school gate and wait for us there. "I will take it to an expert after you are safely at school, dear. Once it is healed we will put up lost animal signs. If no one claims for the beastly thing in a week, only then can you keep it. But you will be paying for the food out of your own allowance, mind."

I have no doubt that she was surprised when I jumped out of the kitten's circling and buried my head into her stomach. Nevertheless, she smiled (well, I presume that she did, anyway) and awkwardly petted my head for a moment, before stepping back from my grip.

"Yes, well, pick it up and come along now. Komi looks disgruntled."

* * *

I watched as Komi was seated next to a girl dressed in pink, who promptly dropped her tube of lip gloss and squealed. Thankfully, I was not placed in her class, but instead the room at the end of the hall, past the office (which we had visited only minutes before) and the library. The kitten in my arms, who I had dubbed Silkie, meowed. "Should we not get going?" 

Mother nodded, blowing a kiss at Komi and slipping her hand into mine. I appreciated the gesture, however foreign it was. That day was the first time I had seen Mother for more than five consecutive minutes; she always left our caretaker, Galfore, to look after us. I often referred to Galfore as our second father, which drew confused looks from guests of Mother's.

Walking past the library, I couldn't help but glance in. A class was sitting around an elderly woman who I took to be the librarian. I didn't get to see very many faces, as they were faced away from us, although a girl with pink hair did turn around for a short moment to talk to the boy behind her. It was almost as if everyone in the class were friends, which was an assumption that I enjoyed extremely; however, the assumption was wiped out as I saw a very small, bald boy snicker at a sign that his mountainous friend had just stuck on the back of a boy in front of them. I squinted to read it through the glass of the window, and gasped. _Kick me_, what terrible people would do such a thing?

Them, obviously.

My mother hadn't noticed my stopping, but turned around at the end of the hall, exasperated. She motioned to the kitten cradled to my chest, and shook her head. Within an instant I was by her side, mouth open, ready to complain.

"Kori, you can still keep the thing. Hurry up now, knock on the door!"

"Which door?"

"To the right." She took Silkie out of my hands, and watched as I approached the rusted door mutely. My heart was pounding; Komi's class didn't look too nice, neither did the one in the library. What if this one turned out to be the same? What if I didn't fit in? What if-

"Kori, just knock on the damn door already!"

I jumped. I hadn't been aware of what I was doing, and I was now leaning against the closed door. I untangled my frowning brows, and forced a smile onto my face. Although a care-free expression would do nothing to cure the butterflies in my stomach, it was a start. Placing my knuckles on the door, I knocked.

Moments later, a man who appeared to be around my mother's age opened the door. He pushed his glasses further up his nose before grinning, and hastily shaking my hand. "Why, hello there! You must be the new student; well, my duckies will be glad to here about that! They're in the library at the moment, you know, but they're due back any minute now…"

I gulped. The class was in the library? My new classmates were the students I had witnessed a few minutes ago, laughing over a very cruel sign? Mother, however, seemed more concerned over deciphering his speech.

"You own ducks, sir?" she asked. Looking up at her, she did seem mildly interested.

"Oh no, I was referring to my class. Well, come in then! Ducky, there's a seat over here, right next to… oh, what's her name? Anyway, that's not important. You'll met 'er anyway, soon enough. Just get yourself settled, yes, over there-" the man said, and I nodded, shuffling over to the opposite side of the classroom to the desk he had pointed his bony finger at. It was in the back left corner, and I felt strangely hidden as I sat down at the seat, pulling my bag off of my back and placing it on the table. A cough sounded from my new teacher forced my eyes to wander back to the man and Mother, who was smiling slightly, Silkie in her arms. "You'll call me Mr Mod, from now on. Or Sir. But no callin' me ducky, understand? You're the duckies here, not me."

I found myself nodding, and merely watching as Mother walked over and kissed me on the cheek. "Have fun, dear," she whispered. "I'll take this thing to the animal shelter for you, so don't you worry about it. I'll send Galfore to pick you up this afternoon, as well. Wait for him by the front gate."

With one backwards glance and a wave, she flounced out the door. Mr Mod cracked his knuckles.

The next ten minutes were insanely boring. Looking at my watch, it was nearing ten o'clock; I wasn't sure whether their session at the library ended at the end of the half-hour or not, but I was in no mood to ask Mr Mod. It was hard to find something fun to do, during those next few minutes. Looking out of the windows proved not to be entertaining, and the only posters in the room were academic ones, unlike my old classroom. In the end I grabbed a pen from my bag and began scribbling on my thigh.

I had barely added the ears to my drawing of Galfore when the door was flung open and two dozen students trampled in, all very loud. A few girls at the front of the group were cackling, and most of the people behind them were yelling over the noise of stomping feet, complaining. Shoving the pen back into my bag, I found myself biting my lip in anticipation. I would never have considered myself loud, exactly, but I wasn't quiet, either. If anything, I blame it on nerves – in that sort of situation, the only thing I really could so was get nervous.

Mr Mod, though, came to my rescue. Or rather, my demise.

A whistle was blown, and the boy with the sign on his back cringed. I myself had a ringing in my ears, as the red-haired man was standing right behind Sign-Boy, who was sitting to my right.

"Alright, m'duckies! We have a new student in our midst – put that straw away, George, or it'll be detention – would Miss New Ducky like to stand up?" he barked, and watched amusedly as many heads craned, looking for… well, me. I blushed, but after Mr Mod glared at me, I hastily stood. "Now, Miss New Ducky, I think the class wants an introduction, don't you?"

This definitely wasn't how I pictured my first day of school to turn out.

So naturally, I tried to sneak my way out of it.

"Sir, I'm really not all that interesting-" I said, attempting to dig my neck into the collar of my jacket. Winter was coming quickly, and I shivered absent-mindedly before pressing onwards. "-and I'm horrible at introductions!"

Sign-Boy laughed heartily, before turning around and whispering to someone behind him. I let another sigh escape my lips; this was not going well.

"Doesn't matter now, do it, ducky? Hurry up, Gym's next!"

Even Sign-Boy had his eyes on me, and I bit my lip. It was time to stop being shy, I decided then and there, time to be the real Kori… unfortunately, it didn't work.

"I am Kori, and I am nine years of age-" I stopped, watching as a few people across the room sniggered. "My sister is in the other class of this level of year." It wasn't the most impressive performance, but it worked. A few eyes rolled, Sign-Boy smiled, and Mr Mod was distracted by an arguing pair in the front row.

Sitting back down, I relaxed as much as possible when you're in a room full of new people and sitting on a hard, splintery wooden chair. For the next few minutes I busied myself with observing the people around me; there was Sign-Boy, who constantly fiddled with his sandy hair, which was curled in a style that the girl sitting in front of me seemed to adore. This girl in particular had blonde hair and large blue eyes.

My observations continued as Mr Mod marched out of the room, the two arguing students in tow. I looked up briefly from studying a girl with two buns on top of her head, just in time to catch sight of the girl with pink hair and a boy with spiked hair glaring at each other as they were dragged along by Mr Mod, who seemed to be ranting about behaviour.

As soon as the harsh sounds of Mr Mod's words disappeared down the hallway, the class erupted in noise. I saw students running every which way, and after a few seconds I had to let a shriek escape my throat as Sign-Boy catapulted to my side, prodding me in the head and giggling constantly.

"Hi, whatcha doin'? M'name is Gar, but you can call me Gar!" He said, both quickly and loudly, his face just inches from mine. I blinked; the behaviour of my peers really astonished me. I had seen many examples of personalities inside the classroom, from mean and obnoxious to… well, how was I supposed to describe Gar? Loud?

I never got enough time to answer although, because Gar began prodding me in the forehead. "Hell-oh? Is anybody in there?" he squeaked, waving his hands in front of my eyes.

"Oh… oh, yes, friend, I do believe that I am in there."

"O-kay… well, erm, Mr Mod's gonna be back soon, I betcha, so we better get this chat thing movin'." Gar paused, bit his pencil and spat it back out again. "So, where did you move from?"

"The city of Gotham, friend. Also, please excuse me for one moment." Ignoring Gar's confused stares, I ducked out of my chair and dropped to my knees, crawling with much stealth (well, I hoped so, anyway) towards Gar's lost pencil, lying in front of a pair of black shoes that were attached to a pair of stockings of the same colour.

Before long the pencil was in my grasp, and as I let out a triumphant cry I catapulted my head towards the ceiling. But much to my chagrin, it hit hard wood – I blinked, ducked out from under the desk, and met with the glares of a disturbed classmate.

"Oh! I am so sorry, I did not mean to-"

"Stop." She muttered, closing her book and pressing against the desk. "I don't mind you hurting yourself on my property, just don't do it again, okay?"

I nodded.

I didn't feel the need to crawl fifty centimetres for the second time that minute, so I instead merely walked the step needed to get to my desk, where Gar was waiting, a large grin set on his face.

"Dude, you talked to her!" he said, "I dunno when she last said anything to anyone other than some dude in the other class and the teachers. You just worked a miri-thingy…"

"I believe you mean miracle?" I said.

Gar was just about to reply when Mr Mod stormed back in and the class fell silent.

"Mr Logan, my ducky, if you don't get back into your seat during the next five second you will be joining Mr Grayson and Miss Jinx in the principal's office. Do you understand that?" the aging man said, and waited to see Gar jump back into his seat before continuing. "Line up in pairs at the door, class, we're running late for Gym."

There was a lot of commotion as we stood up and began making our way towards the door. It was like a stampede of rampaging nine year olds; I was tripped a few times and Book-Girl fell to the floor after being pushed. When I offered her a hand, she took it and after granting me a small smile, acted like it never happened.

As I soon found out, when Mr Mod says 'pairs' he _really_ means 'just do whatever, but make sure to give Kori a bleeding nose along the way'. To further accommodate your interest, somehow as we were walking into the Gym, an elbow flew towards my face and knocked me backwards.

A few dozen tissues and a pestering from the school nurse later, I was sent back to the Gym, where the class was running laps in the paint-marked course. With just a glance at Gar, I realised that I had it easy – for at that moment, the Physical Education teacher yelled out something that had to do with twenty-five laps being up.

And let me tell you, that was a huge gymnasium.

**

* * *

**  
"How's your nose, by the way?" Gar said as we were walking back towards the block that contained our classroom. "I could swear I heard somethin' crack, but it may have just been Vic's knuckles…"

"It is fine, but thankyou for asking." I offered him a weak smile, and he grinned.

"Well, that's good, 'cause recess is soon and if your nose was broken then you wouldn't be able to attend my fabulous tour!"

"Pardon?"

"Well, duh! You basically know where the Gym and the stuff in our block are, and that's it, right? This is the only primary school in Jump, it's huge! There's got to be heaps of places Vic and I haven't even found yet, but you know next to nothing!" Gar said, "And don't even think 'bout asking who Vic is, you'll meet him at lunch – you _are _sittin' with us, right?"

"I would love to, Gar!" I was telling the truth. Gar was the only friend I had made through-out the entire day, if you didn't count Book-Girl (who always walked behind the class when we travelled, and I had a slight suspicion that she would be able to read while walking about not run into a pole; a feat that I had not yet managed to achieve.

"Good, 'cause it's been getting kinda lonely around there since Tara found a new group of… friends… but that's fine, because we're still on a talking basis and stuff. She just doesn't really hang out with us anymore. But um, yeah, where were we?"

"Well, we were walking back to class-" I began, but Gar's hand flew over my mouth and I quieted. A fragile man walked past us, briefly brushing my shoulder with his elbow. We waited until he disappeared off of the stairwell, before continuing. "Who was that?"

"That was the principal," Gar explained, jumping a step and landing on our level. "Last year I sneezed while he was walking by and he yelled at me. He's a bit harsh, y'know?"

I didn't know, but I nodded anyway.

In front of us, Mr Mod slid his key into the door and shuffled inside the classroom, a herd of children following him. I saw Book-Girl slide into her desk, and wondered how she got there so quickly without us noticing; when we entered the stairwell she was behind us.

"Teleportation," I grinned, and once again ignored Gar's confused look as I sat down at my desk and waited for Mr Mod to begin… well, whatever he was about to do.

"Duckies! Since I do not believe in this 'free time' that some other teachers announce every hour, we're going to be starting a little unit this term… would anyone like to guess what this unit is about? Anyone?"

A girl in the second row raised her hand.

"Miss Chester, have a guess. Go on now, ducky, don't be shy…"

"Something English, sir, I bet. You're very patri- patri-"

"Patriotic. You guessed correct, Miss Chester! But would anyone like to guess what exactly we will be studying, not just the country of origin?" Mr Mod said.

We spent the next ten minutes guessing what our teacher had stored up his sleeve. Someone mentioned something about the medieval ages, which I found quite impressive as I couldn't even spell the word (I tried, yet again on my thigh. It always came out… well, I don't know, but Book-Girl muttered something about how the word 'medieval' was _not_, in fact, spelt 'm-e-d-a-v-l'). There were a few guesses relating to monarchy, and I think someone mentioned tennis, but there was no hiding our relief as the bell rang shrilly in our ears.

"Shakespeare!" Mr Mod cried at our retreating backs, "We're going to be studying Shakespeare!"

**

* * *

**  
"Kori, you really need to social- social-" Gar said, struggling once again over his supposedly limited vocabulary as I thanked the cafeteria worker for our lunches. He was soon sidetracked, however, when a surprisingly loud voice yelled his name.

Gar took off at a run, signalling for me to follow him. He was incredibly fast, like a cheetah almost. By the time I reached the table and slammed my tray down next to my friend, he was already in an animated argument with our tablemate.

"I'm tellin' you, Gar, that salad is gross-" said the boy who I assumed to be Vic.

"It was my only choice! I didn't want a burger or anything, it'd go against nature!" As Gar said this, I guilty glanced at my burger. It was covered in mustard and accompanied by strawberry milk, yet I still felt as if I had betrayed the only friend I had made that day.

"Yeah, well – wait, who're you?"

I took a deep breath, relieved that the argument had been forgotten. Gar was picking at his salad, but looking at me with a grin. "I am Kori, new friend. You may know my sister, Komi?"

Vic blinked. "Uhh… hi, Kori… and I think I know her. Does she throw sharpened pencils at the teachers' neck often?"

"I doubt it," Gar interrupted. "If they're related, there's no way any sister of Kori could do that. She's too… nice. Today, my pencil flung over towards Rachel's desk, and she actually talked to her without being scarred for life as she picked it up."

"Miracle," Vic said, letting out a sigh. "I've abandoned hopes of ever talking to her again after preschool, when she fixed by toy car for me then threw it out of the school grounds that recess when I made her mad."

"I do not believe that Rachel would behave like that now," I pressed, determined. "She was quite nice today, and she does not look the type to throw a toy car over a fence."

"She probably isn't, but still. I've never even heard her laugh!" Gar said, dropping his fork onto his tray and staring at my burger, as if he were hurt by my food choices. Actually, he probably was. "Last year, a clown came to the school. Everyone was laughing so hard, but she didn't even smile. It was like she has a face set in stone, or something."

"I doubt it, Gar. I think she can smile… she just needs to exercise it, that's all." Vic said.

"Like you? I swear you spend more time running around at recess than you do breathing. You have an obsession. And Kori's nose was busted as we were walkin' to the Gym, by the way. Blood everywhere," Gar grinned at me, and I self-consciously touched my nose. "It was really cool – I think she got some on Rachel, actually."

"I did? Oh, I must apologise!" and before the two boys had a chance to restrain me, I slid out of my seat and began pacing the cafeteria, looking for a sign of the girl who sat next to me.

Within two minutes, I found her.

She sat at the back of the cafeteria, sipping milk and reading… well, reading something. I took my time coming up to her, because although inside I wanted to bound up to her and apologise furiously for my nostrils' behaviour, I wasn't sure whether she would appreciate it.

"Rachel?" I said quickly, sitting opposite her. "I am most sorry for the behaviour-"

Rachel, however, seemed to like interrupting me. "When did I tell you my name?" she said, dog-earring the page of her book and slamming it onto the table. I yelped.

"You did not. But I must continue, otherwise I will feel very guilty. I apologise for the behaviour of my nose this morning," I took a deep breath, attempting to ignore the glare that the girl was giving me, "And I hope that it did not stain any of your clothes, for they are extraordinarily nice on you."

"Whatever, Kori. You didn't get any blood on me, and I guess I ought to thank you for apologising. Not many people would do that for me… but this doesn't mean anything. We sit next to each other, and that's it. I can tell that you're a friendly type – you would've done better in Gotham, to tell you the truth. At least there you have Batman to protect you. Here? Here we have a bad police force and a pathetic Mayor. We've gotten used to it, and most of us know how to bust a nose. You're looking for a lot more nosebleeds in the future, and at least three of them will make you wish that you never moved here. Anyway, good luck with Garfield and Victor. They get into a lot of shouting matches." Rachel said. And with that, she picked up her book and left; not out into the sunlight, where most students were heading, but through the doors that I had walked into to first lay my eyes on the large room.

What I didn't realise at that moment was how deep Rachel's words really were.

"Oh, Rachel," I sighed, still staring at the spot where she vanished, "Why do you have to make it your business to be so harsh?"

**

* * *

**  
"Kori, you have _got _to see this!" Gar's face was flushed, and I grimaced as my eyes found a remainder of his lunch wedged in between his teeth. "It's… it's… it's… oh, just come and see!"

He grabbed me by the wrist, and I soon found myself being pulled towards a large plastic T, where Victor was waiting for us. Every other child seemed to be staying far away from it, although I didn't know why; the construction was unusual, yes, but beautifully so. When Vic dropped to his knees and crawled through a tiny door, I pried my arm out of Gar's hands and stared at the fragile boy, who was still grinning.

"Please do not consider me rude, Gar," I started, "But what is… this?"

His jaw would have hit the ground had I not put it back in place, blushing. "I did not mean to offend you…"

"Naw, you didn't off – off – offend me, just c'mon, Vic'll be telling the school that we were kidnapped if we don't hurry!" Gar disappeared from sight, and as I looked down, I saw his sneakers slip through the door. Sighing, I followed.

Once inside, I gasped so loud that in later years, Vic would tell me that he swore that I swallowed my tonsils. Though from the outside the play equipment couldn't have been taller than Victor (who stood a head above me and two heads above Gar) once inside, there was enough space that if I chose to stand on Gar's shoulders, my head would only be inches away from the ceiling.

And I just didn't understand it.

"Slide," Vic said, presumably seeing my expression, "New-comers never realise it, but when you crawl through you fall down a slide, and somehow land on your feet. I don't even know how it works!"

"That is odd," I muttered, taking in the plastic room that we stood in. "What is it that you do in here, friends?"

Vic opened his mouth, but Gar beat him. After five minutes of enduring a long-winded speech of everything that the room had to offer, Vic yawned. "Man, Gar, don't do that again," he groaned, and I had to shove my fist in my mouth to block out the sound of my giggles.

"Yeah, whatever."


End file.
